The Story
by JoAnnB
Summary: Sometimes your past catches up with you, and it's time to tell your story. Sequel and prequel to the Wilde Hearts series. Set following Ties that Bind and includes flashbacks to earlier years.
1. Chapter 1

**The Story**

**_Pine Bluffs, Wyoming_**  
><strong><em>1890<em>**

"What do you want from us?" Hannibal Heyes looked intently at the gentleman in the hand tailored suit who was seated in his front room as he waited for an answer.

"Just your story, Mr. Heyes. I'm prepared to offer you five hundred dollars."

"Our 'story' isn't for sale. Not for five hundred dollars. Not for any price."

"I am authorized to negotiate, Mr. Heyes." The visitor sighed and looked at the array of books that lined the shelves of the former outlaw's home. "Surely you can understand the public's interest in a good story. People are intrigued by you, Mr. Heyes. They want to read about the adventures of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. They want to know what being an outlaw was really like."

Heyes let out a short laugh. "There must be a hundred dime novels that tell that story and not one of 'em is worth the paper it's printed on."

"That's my point, Mr. Heyes. I want to print the true story—how it really was."

Heyes studied the other man for a moment before responding. "No, Mr. Spencer, you want to turn my ranch into a three ring circus because you think you can make a lot of money. I like my life just the way it is, nice and private. "

Private might not have been the right word for his life in Pine Bluffs. When he and the Kid first moved to Pine Bluffs after being granted amnesty, they had been the talk of the entire town. Over the years, they had gained acceptance and even respect from most of the townsfolk. When Heyes married the local school teacher, none of the residents had objected.

Ten years after receiving amnesty, the former leaders of The Devil's Hole Gang had almost become average citizens. That was, until a gang of murderous outlaws began robbing trains and killing passengers. That gang, dubbed "The New Devil's Hole Gang" had terrorized the region and eluded local law enforcement until Heyes and Curry had been able to stop them. Upon returning to Pine Bluffs, they'd been proclaimed local heroes, and received far more attention than either had expected—or invited.

"The public wants a story," the man in the tailored suit continued, "and they will get one. I'm offering you the opportunity to make some money on the deal." Spencer picked up the glass of brandy that Charlotte Heyes had poured when he first arrived. "It's your choice," he added, then took the last sip of amber liquid and set the glass down.

"You're all finished," Heyes said dryly and stood to show his guest to the door.

After the man had left, Heyes stood on the porch, looking out over the land that was his ranch, his and the Kid's. Charlotte joined him after a few minutes.

"You heard?" he asked, continuing to look straight ahead while his wife slipped an arm around his waist.

"I heard," she replied quietly. "I don't know why it bothers you so much. You are rather famous you know."

"It bothers me because of you, and because of him." He rested his hand on her swollen belly. "In six weeks our baby will be born. I don't want to be known as an outlaw, or even a former outlaw. I want this baby to be able to respect his father."

"Or _her_ father," Charlotte added with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Right, or _her_ father," Heyes smiled as he ran his hand over his wife's formerly slender waist.

"He or she will be proud of you just like I am," she said firmly, as she wrapped her arms around the man she loved.

"I just want him to have a decent start in life. A chance to grow up without a cloud over his head; without being ashamed of his own name or of who his, _or her_—" he smiled, catching himself "—father is."

Charlotte sighed as she pulled her husband close and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You could always go back to being Smith."

"What?" Heyes pulled away and the look on his face caused Charlotte to break into laughter.

"Oh," he said, his shocked expression melting into a look of chagrin.

"Face it, you will always be Hannibal Heyes whether you like it or not," Charlotte grinned. "And I for one, happen to like it."

0000000

"What's that?" Jed Curry asked, studying his daughter's expression as she read the letter she had just opened.

"It's a letter Pa, from my grandparents."

He arched an eyebrow and his eyes narrowed in a question.

"Ma's folks back in Kansas," Catherine clarified.

Jed felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The last words he'd had with Eliza's father had been far from agreeable. "Have you kept in contact with them much?" he asked, trying to mask the panic that was rising.

"No, not really. I lived near them until I was five, but I don't remember them very well. Ma wrote to them after we moved to New Mexico, but they only wrote back once. They said they were real sorry that my pa…I mean Jake, was dead and they wanted her to move back to Kansas. She didn't want to though, and she didn't talk about them much after that."

Catherine looked up at her father with an almost panicked expression. "They say they're coming here to visit—they'll be here," she glanced at the letter again, calculating the date, "in three days!"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. How—how did they know where to find you?"

"I'm not sure." She thought for a moment. "Ma must have written and told them. Or maybe someone in New Mexico contacted them after Ma and Joseph were killed."

Old feelings stirred in Jed Curry. Guilt, remorse, anger...

"Catherine," he said finally, "Do you think they know I'm your pa?"

"Oh, they've known that for a long time," she said quickly. "Ma said they figured it out right after I was born. No one said anything to me though."

Curry thought he heard a tinge of resentment in the comment.

"Well, then I guess we'd better get the place ready," he said evenly.

Catherine smiled and relaxed slightly, comforted by her father's steady composure. Shaking her head, she added, "Ma always said they liked Jake and thought he was a real good husband." She looked her father in the eye. "But they were wrong about that, weren't they?"

Jed let out a breath and gave his daughter a reassuring smile. "Well, sometimes folks just see what they want to see. Your grandparents were fine folks. I remember they treated me real well when I worked for them that summer. Whatever happened after that, well, I reckon that was all my fault." He looked down, ashamed.

"What did happen, Pa?" She looked at him with unanswered questions in her eyes.

"You know what happened. I left," he said softly, not meeting his daughter's eyes.

"I know you didn't leave because of me. I know she didn't tell you that she was going to have a baby. But you never said why you did leave."

"I didn't have a choice," Curry said quietly as he reached out and wrapped his arm around his daughter's shoulders, pulling her close into an embrace. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his shoulder.

"Please tell me what happened," she pleaded. "Before they get here."

Jed Curry gave her a squeeze and lowered his voice. "Honey, there's just some things…" his voice trailed off.

She pulled away and folded her arms, suddenly looking cross. "What? Some things you don't like to talk about? You know I never ask you the things those newspaper people and city folk do. "She glared at her father. "What's it like to rob a train? What'd you do with all that money you stole?" She continued to stare at him defiantly. "How many men have ya killed, Kid?"

"Catherine!" he jumped back and looked as shocked as if she'd slapped him in the face.

"Well I don't, do I?" She stood her ground.

"No," he conceded. He wondered how truthfully he would answer her if she ever did ask for real answers to those questions.

"I know what you did—who you were, and who you are now. I just don't know who you were when you met my mother. Or who she was then. What did you do together? Well, I mean other than…that," she added quickly.

Curry smiled. "Yeah, I guess 'that' is pretty obvious, since you're here."

"I know you loved her. I can see it in your face every time you talk about her."

"What happened, Pa? Why'd you leave?"

0000000

**_Eighteen years earlier_**

"You got a wild streak in you, Jed Curry. I can feel it."

"Oh yeah? I'll give you something to feel." She squealed with delight as he pressed against her and ran his hands down her slim waist.

"Stop it Jed, I'm serious."

"So am I," he said, huskily.

"I mean it," she said, soberly, and pulled away.

With a frustrated sigh, he folded his arms and sat back on the prairie grass.

"What?"

"We have to talk about where this is going." She gave him a pensive look.

"The hay loft?" he asked, with the hint of a smile.

"Uuh, Jed Curry, you're incorrigible!" she exclaimed and tossed a tuft of grass at him. "Do you really want to settle down on a farm? I know you've got bigger dreams than that."

"All I dream about is you, Eliza."

"I want a home, Jed. I want a little garden where I raise vegetables for supper, and cellar filled with canned preserves that I've stored up for the winter. I want to raise my children on a farm like this. Is that what you want?"

He blinked. "I don't know. I was raised on a farm too, but I don't know if that's what I want."

"Don't you think we should talk about it? Instead of just…what we're doing?"

"I guess. I don't know. I just know I feel so good when I'm with you, and wherever you are, that's where I want to be."

"Jed, we have to talk to my father. If you really want to marry me, you have to ask him."

"I know. I will, just as soon as I get back."

"Back? Where are you going?"

"Remember I told you I was waiting for my cousin? We split up last spring and we were supposed to meet up this fall after the harvest."

"I remember, but that's not until next month."

"Well, I think he's in Sweetwater, and he might be in some trouble. I have to go find him. After I know he's alright, then I'll come back and talk to your father."

"But why can't you talk to him first?"

"It's hard to explain, I guess it's because he's my only family. We were there for each other when we didn't have nobody else. I just have to know he's alright before I can settle down here with you. Besides, he has to be at the wedding."

"How long will that take, Jed? I told you my father wants me to marry Jake Walker. He's been working all summer down in Wichita for his uncle, but he's due back in a few weeks. I know he's going to ask me when he gets back."

"Just tell him no," Jed said with a shrug.

"It's not just Jake, it's my father. I can't tell Jake 'no' if I don't have a better offer."

Jed grinned. "So I'm better?"

"You know what I mean." she punched him playfully. "I'm not in love with Jake. And…there is something else." Her gaze drifted toward the horizon.

"What?"

"Not now, I want to wait until you've talked to my father."

Jed pulled Eliza into an embrace and squeezed her tightly as his lips found hers for a deep kiss.

"I'll be back," he whispered. "You can count on that."

0000000

**_Present Day_**

"So why didn't you go back?" Catherine prodded. She had remained quiet while her father was relaying the story, but now she wanted to hear more.

"Something…happened," he said simply.

She was about to ask what, when the door burst open.

"Ki—Jed, you won't believe what just happened!" Hannibal Heyes was talking fast and loud as he entered Curry's newly built one-story ranch house.

The partners had shared the original ranch house since buying the property eight years before. After the murder of her mother and step-father, Catherine and her half-brother Joey had come to live with Curry, so he had decided it was time to build his own place. It had only taken three months, with the help of neighbors and the cooperation of the weather, to make it a suitable for moving in. Catherine had inherited her mother's talent for sewing and had already finished curtains, table cloths, and a quilt for her baby brother.

"What is it?" Curry asked, anxiously.

"It seems everybody wants to know our story—the 'real' story they keep saying."

"Tell me about it," Curry mumbled.

"Did he come over here first?" Heyes asked, surprised.

"What? Who?" Curry looked back blankly.

"That publisher fella."

"What publisher fella?"

Heyes sighed, exasperated. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. Would ya listen to me for once? I tell you Ki—Jed, it's not like the old days when all I had to do was give an order and everybody jumped."

"They did?" Catherine asked, and Heyes suddenly noticed she'd been sitting quietly in the room.

"Well, yeah, most of the time. And if they didn't, your pa made sure they did," Heyes grinned.

Curry rolled his eyes. "Thanks Heyes, that's just what she needed to hear."

"Hey, where's little Joey?" Heyes asked, glancing around the room to see who else he might have overlooked in his excitement to relay the recent event.

"He's napping, so if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your voice down," Curry warned, in his former outlaw voice.

"Ah, right, cranky toddler stage. I guess I'll have to learn about that."

"Yeah. So, who's this fella you said came over?"

"He's some big publisher from back east. New York City. He says he wants to write a book all about the 'real' west he calls it. The true stories about outlaws and lawmen, gunfights and range wars, and all that."

"Maybe he should," Catherine broke in. "Maybe people want to know the real story, not just the exaggerated stuff in the dime novels, and the things people write in the newspapers."

"You don't understand, honey, your pa and me—we like our privacy," Heyes told her, attempting to keep his voice low.

"Your privacy? Every time someone hears your names in public, all they have to go by is the dime novels and the outlandish tales. Is that how you want people to see you?" Catherine gave her father and her 'uncle' Heyes a pointed look.

"Now you sound like Charlotte." Heyes looked to Curry for support but received only a resigned shrug. "You want your life story in some book?"

"Nope," Curry replied, emphatically. "But, if we don't tell it somebody else will, and no tellin' what wild claims they'll make."

"He offered five hundred dollars," Heyes said with a disgusted laugh. "As if we could be bought."

Catherine raised her eyebrows at the last comment, but Heyes continued to pace and shake his head.

Curry pondered the idea for a moment. "How high do you think he'd go?"

"You're not serious?" Heyes stared at his old friend.

"Ooh," Catherine squealed. "We could buy that new stallion you want, or fix up the barn, or…"

"Or, we could send you to college. You know they have that new school in Laramie—teaches men and women side by side, not like those fancy schools in the east."

"I know Pa, we've talked about it," Catherine smiled. "I'm considering it."

"Nobody's selling anything. Least of all my life story," Heyes declared. "I've got to get home, Charlotte may need something."

"Charlotte's fine, Heyes, if she needs anything she knows where to find you. Catherine's right about the horse, and the barn. We could do a lot with that money—and get our story told right too."

"I don't know what's gotten into you," Heyes gave an exasperated sigh.

"Think about it Uncle Heyes, please," Catherine implored.

"Okay, honey. For you," he leaned over and kissed her on her forehead after scowling briefly at his cousin.

"Sell our story," Heyes scoffed, as he stood to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Charlotte, I wish you would sit down, I thought we agreed that if you continued teaching until the end of the term, you'd rest when you were at home." Heyes tried to sound stern, but his eyes held the warmth and sparkle that they always did when they were resting on Charlotte.

"I know, but there is just so much to do, and I feel fine. But speaking of things we agreed to…have you given any more thought to letting Mr. Spencer write the story of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry?"

Heyes sighed. "I don't know. There are still a lot of things you don't know about me. I know you said that what matters is our life here and now, but if everything comes out…"

"Is it worse than what they print in the dime novels?" Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

"No, most of it isn't, but there are a few things…that you might not be too happy about."

"I've already made my choice," she said with a smile. "Whatever it is, I've chosen to stand by your side, so I'll just have to accept it."

"I love you, Mrs. Heyes." He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her as close as he dared with the baby between them. "Are you sure it's going to be a whole month before he's born?"

"I'm sure, that she has a little while longer to grow." Charlotte smiled. "Oh, you'll be happy to know I received a letter from the teacher from Denver. The one that applied to take over my position? Her name is Helen Pritchard, and she can be here as early as the end of this week. She doesn't mind stepping in to help right away so she can get to know the students."

"That's great!" Heyes exclaimed. "You can start staying home next week!"

"Well, I'm not sure about that," she began. "I'm sure Helen will need to have me show her the books we use, and introduce her to the students. You know, get her used to the routine."

"Sure, but you'll have help, and if you need to rest…"

"I'm fine. Will you stop worrying about me?" She pushed him away playfully, and returned to the basket she was packing for Catherine.

0000000

"Pa, what time is their train?" Catherine asked for the third time that morning.

"Two o'clock, just like it was last time you asked," Curry replied.

Catherine had scrubbed the floors and washed the linens, though not much was needed since the home was so newly constructed.

"You're sure you're okay with the arrangements?" Catherine asked, again for the third or fourth time. It had been decided that Curry would move temporarily back into his old room at the Heyes', leaving Catherine and baby Joey with their grandparents in the new house.

"Honey, they're comin' here to see you and Joey, not me. 'Sides, I'm not so sure they're going to be too happy to have me around at all."

"Well, it is your ranch, after all. You're their host so they'll have to be polite. They're only here for one week, so at least they'll be gone long before Charlotte's baby is born. Uncle Heyes and Aunt Charlotte won't need their extra room until then."

"I'll be fine," Curry reassured her. He smiled to himself, pleased that Catherine seemed to be thinking of the needs of others ahead of herself. He could hardly say the same about himself at her age. He stepped outside and took a deep breath of the warm summer air. He looked north to where he knew their horses were grazing in the pasture, and south toward the corral they would use to break colts. He never thought he would call a place like this his own—his and Heyes'.

0000000

Eighteen years earlier

Jed Curry was hot and he could feel sweat dripping down the small of his back.

"Jed," a sweet voice called.

Looking up from the potato patch that he had been weeding, Jed Curry smiled. "What are you doin' out here in the hot sun?" he asked. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of Eliza. Her light summer dress was short enough to reveal a good portion her ankles and calves, and she wasn't wearing the long black stockings that he'd seen her wear since he'd first arrived.

"I thought you could use some lemonade," she offered, displaying the glass she'd been holding behind her back.

"Sure," Jed said quickly, taking the proffered glass and gulping down the cool, sweet drink.

"And…maybe a quick dip in the creek?" She extend one bare leg. Her loose fitting boot wobbled slightly on her foot.

"Don't know if your ma and pa would approve," he laughed. Surely she was kidding.

"I'm sure they wouldn't, but Pa just hitched up the wagon and took Ma into town. Mrs. Lewis is having her baby and the doc is way down in El Dorado."

Jed looked confused.

Eliza sighed, and explained, "My ma is the local mid-wife, when the doc's not around anyway. Pa will drive back tonight, but the round trip will take two or three hours at least."

"Oh," Jed said, hesitantly.

"So, if we want to take a walk down by the creek, you'll still have time to get all of your chores done." She paused, and then added, "You are a fast-worker, aren't you?"

"Wha…what do you mean?"

"The weeding. You can finish it all even if we go for a walk, right?"

"Sure," he said, confidently. He was already setting the hoe aside and taking off his work gloves.

"I have a surprise for you," she said, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yeah?" He grinned, thrilled that the girl seemed interested in him.

"Lemonade isn't all I have to offer," she teased.

"Oh?" Jed waited for her to continue.

Eliza made a show of reaching behind the tomato bush and pulling out a square basket with a cloth draped over the top. "My ma's famous apple pie," she announced. "We can picnic down by the creek."

Jed's grin reached ear to ear.

"I brought a quilt too. Ma uses this old one for picnics all the time, so we lay it down by the creek."

Jed shook his head in amazement, wondering briefly if he'd suffered heat stroke and was hallucinating.

Jed took off his boots and rolled his pants up to his knees. Eliza held her skirt up and the two waded into the creek. After splashing around, and nearly falling one too many times on a slippery rock, they flopped down on the patchwork quilt.

"You like the water?" he asked, not sure where to begin the conversation.

"I love it, I'm going to see the ocean one day. Maybe both of them!"

"Both?"

"Yes, the Atlantic and the Pacific," Eliza clarified. I want to see the whole country from one side to the other, don't you?"

"I dunno, haven't really thought much about it."

"What do you think about? What do you want to do?"

He thought for a minute before responding. "I want to be able to protect myself and the people I care about. I want to make sure nothing bad happens to 'em." His eyes took on a haunted expression.

"I'm sorry, you're thinking about your family aren't you? You said they were all dead."

He nodded.

"My brother died, too. In the war," she added.

Jed turned to look at her, surprised. "I didn't know you had a brother."

"He was five years older than me. During the last year of the war, the Union army came through town trying to round up new recruits—they'd lost so many. He volunteered. Our pa tried to talk him out of it, but in the end he went. He said he was old enough and he wanted to fight for his country. I think he just wanted to show Pa he was a man. Well, I guess he did."

"I'm sorry," Jed said quietly, knowing the pain of losing a sibling.

"It was real hard on all of us. I miss him a lot." She paused for a moment before continuing. "In the beginning my pa tried to work the farm by himself, but it's really a two-man job, so he started hiring a hand every summer-and now you're here." She smiled then, and touched his arm. He took her hand in his and held it for a moment.

"You'd better try the pie," she said, breaking away to dig into the basket and produce the pie with two forks.

"How is it?" she asked after he'd shoveled a few bites into his mouth.

"Delicious," he said, with his mouth full of pie.

"Hm, you have a little…just there," she touched her fingertips to the side of his mouth and wiped off a stray crumb.

Jed caught her hand in his and held it to his lips, kissing her fingers gently. "Eliza…" Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? The sight of her bare legs, and her light cotton dress laying damp against her thighs…

"What else do you want, Jed," she asked. She reached out with her free hand and slipped it under his shirt caress his bare chest.

"You," he said, the words barely audible as he crushed her mouth with a deep kiss.

0000000

Present Day

"Jed!" a voice call loudly.

"Oh, Hello Charlotte," Jed said, surprised. 

"Didn't you hear me calling?"

"No, I'm sorry, I…"

"Aunt Charlotte!" Catherine exclaimed from the doorway. "You shouldn't be carrying that."

Charlotte stood in front of their home, holding a large cast iron pot and a bulging burlap bag. "Well, I wouldn't have had to if your father had heard me calling to him. Hannibal will be along in a minute. He's just putting the second buckboard on the wagon for you so you'll all be comfortable."

"You really didn't have to bring this, but thank you," Curry said, moving to take the pot from Charlotte and carry it to the kitchen.

"It's just beef stew," Charlotte explained. "I figure you can heat it up whenever you want tonight, and make it a simple supper. The Petersons will probably be tired after their long train ride. We'll have everyone over to visit tomorrow after they've had a chance to get settled. Do you want to invite Jack Caldwell?" Charlotte looked to Catherine for confirmation. Caldwell, the town sheriff had taken an interest in Catherine when she visited the year before, and now that she'd moved to Pine Bluffs, it looked like the two might be on their way to becoming a couple.

"Oh yes, I'll ask him when we go to town today," the girl replied with a grateful smile, ushering Charlotte into the house.

"How are things between you and Jack?" Charlotte asked, beginning to unpack the loaf of bread and other things she'd brought over.

"Fine. I think," Catherine hesitated. "I mean, they're fine."

"Sit down and tell me all about it," Charlotte coaxed. "You have plenty of time to get to the train station."

Curry took Charlotte's sharp glance as a hint. "I think I hear Joey fussing. I'll take him outside for some fresh air."

"Tell me what's wrong?" Charlotte leaned in and gave Catherine her full attention.

"I brought up the subject of college—you know, the University in Laramie. You and Pa have been talking about it so much, and I think it sounds kind of exciting."

"And?" Charlotte prodded.

"Well, Jack didn't think so. He said it takes a long time to get a college degree. He said I already know everything I need to know about taking care of a home and cooking and sewing and all that." 

"Oh he did, did he?" Charlotte frowned.

"What do you think, Aunt Charlotte? I don't know how a college degree would make me any better at taking care of a home, but I don't want to get married yet. I want a home someday, but right now, college sounds like an adventure."

"I think if he really loves you, he'll wait until you're ready. And, he'll want what's best for you."

"That's just it, Aunt Charlotte, I don't know if I 'love' him. How can you know for sure?"

"I think if you don't know for sure, then you should wait," Charlotte concluded.

"But Pa likes him," Catherine persisted. Ironically, her father and the town sheriff had become good friends. In fact, he'd played a role in saving Curry's life twice.

"Yes, but your father loves you and wants you to be happy. And I don't think he wants you to get married yet either."

"No, he always tells me to wait." She giggled. "It's funny—I'm always telling him that he needs to find a wife, and he keeps telling me to wait."

"Well, you're young. You have plenty of time. Your father on the other hand," she glanced back to see if Curry was still outside, "does need to think about finding a wife," she added conspiratorially. "You know, the new teacher who's coming to fill my position after I have the baby, might be a possible candidate."

"Really?" Catherine leaned forward. "Why do you think so?"

"Well, she's about twenty-eight or twenty-nine, I think, from her letter. She taught school in Denver for a few years and then got married, but her husband has recently died and she's looking for a fresh start in a new city. She sounds very nice and appears to be very well educated."

Curry poked his head in the door. "You two about done? We should head out."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

At two-o'clock precisely, Catherine and Jed stood waiting as the train pulled slowly into the Pine Bluffs station.

"Do you think you'll recognize them?" Curry asked his daughter.

"I don't know, do you?" Catherine returned.

"It's been nearly twenty years."

"Only eighteen," she corrected. "You're always the one telling me not to grow up too fast."

He laughed. "And I will probably keep saying that for another twenty years."

The girl gave him an exasperated look.

"Catherine, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. About your mother."

"What?" Catherine looked surprised.

"Did she ever get to see the ocean?"

"The ocean? Why?"

"It's just something I remember she said she wanted to do."

Catherine thought for a moment. "Probably. Joseph took her to New York and Boston for their honeymoon. They visited all the dress shops, and fabric stores, and she said they had a really good time. I didn't want to hear about their trip though. I wasn't very interested in her 'new husband.' In fact, I think I was pretty awful to her. The next year they went to San Francisco. They wanted me to go with them that time, but I wouldn't go. I stayed behind with Carmen and her family."

Curry remembered the Mexican woman, Susanna, who had worked for Eliza in her dressmaking store. Susanna's daughter Carmen was the same age as Catherine and they were best friends. In fact, Carmen had risked her own life to help rescue Catherine when she had been taken by bandits near the border.

"You were young, and you'd been through a lot. Moving to a new city, losing your pa…"

"Yeah, I know, but I didn't really give her a chance. I just kept pushing her away. I was always mad at her, and I'm not even sure why anymore."

Curry started to reply, but stopped when he saw the middle-aged couple climbing down from the train platform. "There," he said softly, nodding toward the couple.

The gentleman with graying dark hair and a handle bar mustache, who looked to be in early sixties, made eye contact with the former outlaw and instant recognition registered.

"Here we go," Curry said under his breath.

"Oh my," the woman exclaimed when she reached them. "You must be Catherine. You're all grown up." The woman looked her up and down and then frowned. "I thought you'd look more like your mother."

Catherine's smile faded and she looked away.

"Now, now, Emma," her husband chided. "Don't know why you'd think that. We always knew who she favored. Hello, Jed," he said simply, and extended his hand.

Curry hesitated for only a moment before reaching out to shake the other man's hand. "Hello, Mr. Peterson, welcome to Wyoming."

"Well, dear, give your grandmother a hug," Emma Peterson said, opening her arms and embracing the young woman. "Don't you remember me?" she asked, after the two had exchanged a hug.

"Not very well," Catherine admitted. "I think I remember some things. Apple pies and quilts," she said after a minute.

"Oh yes, your grandmother makes the best apple pie in Kansas," Karl Peterson said with a broad smile.

Jed smiled but remained quiet.

"And where is the baby?" Mrs. Peterson asked, looking around.

"Oh, Joey's back at the ranch. He naps in the afternoon so we thought it was best not to bring him into town."

"Who's watching him?" Mrs. Peterson looked suddenly concerned.

"Oh, don't worry, he's with Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Heyes," Catherine said quickly.

"Heyes?" Peterson looked at Curry with a raised eyebrow.

"Hannibal Heyes," Curry confirmed.

Peterson cleared his throat. "Ah, yes, your cousin I believe. The one you ran off to rob a bank with in Sweetwater."

"Karl!" Mrs. Peterson scolded. "I thought we agreed that we weren't going to start with that?"

"Well, why not? We're just getting it all out in the open so we all know where we stand," Peterson replied.

"Rob a bank?" Catherine gave her father an anxious look. "You said you left the farm because Uncle Heyes needed you."

"Needed his gun to help rob a bank," the older man muttered.

"I didn't go there to rob a bank. I went to stop Heyes from robbin' one, or at least make sure he was safe. I had nothing to do with the bank robbery in Sweetwater. Let's get out of the station. I'll go 'round and get the wagon. We have a long ride back to the ranch—plenty of time to get reacquainted." Curry gave his daughter's shoulder a squeeze. "I'll tell you about Sweetwater on the way," he added softly, as he turned to go.

0000000

**_Sweetwater, Kansas_**  
><strong><em>1872<em>**

Jed arrived in Sweetwater with two days of trail dust covering his clothes and caking his face. He led his horse to a trough outside the livery and dismounted while the animal drank. Dipping into the trough himself, he splashed some water on his face and ran his hands through his hair. After patting down his clothes and beating off some of the dust, he proclaimed himself fit for buying a drink.

The first saloon he entered was inhabited only by two old-timers, and a barkeep that gave the young stranger a suspicious glare. Not seeing his cousin, he continued on. Still thirsty and dusty, he walked another block and located what looked like a more likely place to find Heyes.

The piano music and raucous laughter could be heard from halfway down the street. If Heyes was in town, this would be the place. As soon as Jed stepped through the bat-wing doors he knew his instincts were right. A table in the center of the room hosted a poker game with stacks of colorful chips and glasses of whiskey. The players surrounding the table looked to be farmers or ranchers, but one black hat caught Jed's attention. Moving toward the table, he caught his cousin's eye and smiled. "How 'ya doin'? he asked nonchalantly.

The reaction was not what he expected. The dark haired young man looked up at the newcomer with surprise and apparent displeasure.

"Who's the kid, Heyes?" a bearded man asked, in a tone that sounded more like a threat than a question.

"Oh, just some kid I did a job with last fall; I didn't expect to see him again. I'll sit out this hand," he said, laying his cards down on the table. "I'll just be a minute, boys." The dark-haired young man stood and headed for the door, motioning for Jed to follow.

"What the hell was that about?" Jed hissed as soon as they were on the street.

"Calm down, the boys are a little touchy about newcomers is all."

"Newcomer? I'm your cousin!"

"Keep it down, would ya? What are you doin' here anyway? I told you I'd meet you out at that farm you were workin' at when I was finished with my job."

"Well if I'd have known that was how you felt maybe I wouldn't have come," Jed replied with irritation. "And what's with the 'kid' stuff? I'm no kid anymore, Han."

"Sure ya are, I bet you're barely shaving," the older boy grinned, sounding more like himself. "Don't call me Han—just Heyes. And don't tell them you're my cousin; it's better if they don't know we're related."

The younger man stared back open-mouthed.

Taking a deep breath, Heyes tried again. "Jed, this is a pretty wild town. You'd better lay low until your horse is rested, and then head on back to the farm. We'll meet up in a coupla weeks like we planned."

Jed didn't move. "I got a little worried when I saw that newspaper article," he said pointedly.

"Which article was that?" Heyes asked.

The voice was smooth but Jed could tell he'd hit a nerve. "The one about a bank bein' robbed? That was you wasn't it? Paper said the thief opened it by playin' with the tumblers—just like you taught yourself to do. You said you weren't going to do anything stupid, just play poker and win us some money. What do you call robbin' a bank?"

"I call it getting a stake. My cut from that job was $500."

Jed only stared at his cousin in disbelief.

"So how come you didn't cut me in? I been workin' the whole summer out at a farm and barely makin' $2 a week."

"Yeah, but you got room and board didn't ya? And they had that pretty daughter didn't they?"

Jed blushed involuntarily and Heyes gave him a devilish grin.

"I can help. I can watch your back like I did when we was kids," Jed pressed.

"Look, I don't need my little cousin comin' 'round here to keep me outta trouble." Heyes regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth but it was too late to take them back.

"Okay fine, if you don't want me here, we'll split up."

The younger man turned on his heel and headed toward his horse.

"Jed, I didn't mean…Look, let's meet up in Cheyenne in a month, like we planned. I've got some real big plans coming through and I'll have enough of a stake to keep us both living good for…"

Curry turned back and said sharply, "I don't need my 'big cousin' earnin' my keep. I'll go, but first I'm gettin' a drink."

"Dammit, Jed, why do you have to be so stubborn?" Heyes exclaimed, as Jed pushed passed him and reentered the saloon.

0000000

Returning to the bar where Heyes had been playing cards turned out to be a bad idea, and a little less than an hour later, Jed Curry found himself in a stand-off with one of the card players out in street in front of the saloon.

"If you wear that gun like a man, boy, you'd better know how to use it."

"I know how to use it just fine. I don't want to have to kill you to prove it."

"Kill me?" the man laughed. "Aw, I bet you can't even get it outta the holster without shootin' your own foot off!" he laughed again, and the crowd that'd gathered on the street laughed along.

"You gonna stand there all day laughin' or are you gonna take back what you said about me cheatin'?" Jed raised his voice to be heard over the crowd.

"Oh I ain't takin' it back. You're ridin' outta town like the yella coward you are," the man replied. "Or I'll kill ya."

"I'll ride out, just as soon as you take back what you said," Jed declared, defiantly standing his ground.

"Well, then I guess we have a problem," the man grinned, and adjusted his stance.

Jed stared back, steady and seemingly relaxed.

A split second after the gambler's hand went for his gun, Jed's was cocked and fired.

The impact caused the man to stagger back and a shocked look spread over his face as he coughed once, then stumbled and fell to the ground.

The crowd stood in shocked silence. It was obvious the man was dead—or would be very soon.

Jed felt bile rising in his throat and for one brief moment he was afraid he was going to be sick. He'd just killed a man. He swallowed and took a slow breath before responding, concentrating on keeping his voice as cold and steady as possible.

"Anybody else have a problem?"

Several men gave him an appraising glance, but most looked away or down at their boots as they hurried away. The few who did look him in the face, merely shook their heads or mumbled "No, no problem."

When he was certain no one intended to challenge him, he turned to head back to the saloon and saw Heyes standing only a few feet away, staring at him. "What?" Jed asked defensively. "He challenged me." The look on his cousin's face made his stomach clench into a knot again. Heyes was looking at him like he was a stranger.

"My God, Jed, I always knew you were fast but… I had no idea…"

"What? That I was a killer?"

"No! No idea that you could face down a man like that with the kind of nerve you showed. You aren't even sweating. And you outdrew him—he went for his gun first but he barely cleared leather."

Jed just shook his head and walked toward the first saloon he'd seen on his way into town. "Wanna be by myself," he mumbled as walked away.

Jed was a third of the way through a bottle of the establishment's cheapest whiskey when Heyes strode in and sat down next to him. Heyes glanced back and nodded at the bartender, who was already walking over with a glass.

"You're sort of getting a reputation out there," Heyes said, pouring a drink for himself from Jed's bottle. "Everyone's trying to figure out who you are—nobody's ever seen anyone draw a gun that fast _and_ be that accurate."

"I shouldn't have killed him."

"What do you mean? He was going to kill you—everyone could see that."

"The bullet hit him square in the chest—dead center. Exactly where I aimed. If I'd aimed for his right arm or shoulder, or even shot the gun out of his hand, we'd both still be alive."

"That's crazy! You would have had to hit a moving target—and if you had missed by a fraction of an inch, you'd be the one dead in the street right now."

"Then I won't miss." Jed tossed back another shot of whiskey and stared defiantly at his older cousin.

"Jed, you're good, but not that good," Heyes frowned. "You have to ride out now. If you stay there'll be another gunman just like that guy there—looking to be the one that took down the new Fast Draw Kid." They don't know your name yet, but the sheriff's working on that. He wants to talk to you."

Jed looked up, panic showing clearly on his face. He'd had too much alcohol to control his expression.

"Don't worry, he knows it was self-defense. You don't have a record and you're not wanted so you'll be fine."

Jed nodded, taking in his cousin's words.

"You'd still better ride out once you've talked to him." Heyes looked down at his drink, paused for a moment and then emptied the glass.

0000000

_**Present Day**_

"That's not what they printed in the papers. Everyone said you were in on it," Mrs. Peterson objected.

"I know. They got it wrong. But you all believed it." He shot an accusing look at the older couple.

"Well, not Eliza, of course. She wouldn't hear a word against you," the older woman mused.

"What?" Curry turned so quickly toward Mrs. Peterson that he almost pulled the horses off the road. He settled the team and then said more calmly, "Are you saying Eliza didn't believe I'd gone there to rob a bank? Or that I murdered that man in cold blood?"

"No, not then. She said it must all be some terrible misunderstanding. But, then when you didn't come back, she did start to wonder. 'Course later, she had to admit the truth. We heard all the stories about those bank and train robberies. With Jake being a lawman, he had all the wanted posters too. You made quite a name for yourself."

"I did go back," Curry said, quietly.

"When?" Mrs. Peterson asked. "I never saw you."

Karl Peterson cleared his throat self-consciously, unable to meet his wife's eyes, or Jed Curry's.

_**Peterson Farm**_  
><em><strong>1872<strong>_

Karl Peterson stood on his front porch, shot gun poised for firing.

"What are you doing here, Curry? I can't believe you have the nerve to show your face at my door."

Jed took a step back, surprised and hurt by the accusing tone in the man's voice. He had gotten along well with Eliza's father while he had worked on the man's farm over the summer. He wondered fretfully if Eliza had told her father about their relationship.

"I came to see Eliza," he said, guardedly.

"You turn around and get off my land before I shoot you for trespassing!" His tone was menacing.

Jed blanched. What exactly had Eliza told her father?

"I just wanted to tell her good bye, and, that I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Is that what you call it? We heard about the gambler you killed down in Sweetwater. I should unload this shot gun into you right now!" The tone was unmistakable.

Jed's voice revealed his confusion. "What? No. That was self-defense, the sheriff said so."

"Uh huh, and I heard that cousin of yours robbed a bank. Were you part of that too?"

"What? 'Course not. That was three weeks ago. I was right here."

"Three weeks?" Peterson squinted at Jed. "I'm talkin' about the bank in Sweetwater two days ago."

Jed suddenly felt ill.

"I – I didn't know anything about that. I left right after – the shooting," Jed stammered.

"Uh huh, that's what you say. The papers say different. Hannibal Heyes was one of the robbers, paper says. Says "Kid" Curry was part of the gang too."

"Kid…" Jed stared back, his mouth falling open. He suddenly felt like turning and running. He wanted to be anywhere but facing Eliza's father at that moment.

"Did the gambler catch you staking out the bank? Or did he want in on it? Is that what really happened?"

"No," he said emphatically, shaking his head.

"Boy, I think it's time for you to get off my property. Now!" Peterson leaned in and punctuated the last word with a thrust of the shot gun.

Jed took a step back, reining in his own temper. "I'd like to see Eliza before I go, to explain."

"Explain what? That you're a no-good, murderin' outlaw? You robbed a bank and murdered a man in cold blood. She already knows that!"

Jed felt his heart drop to his stomach. "Is that what she thinks?"

"It's the truth," the man spat.

Jed's expression hardened.

"If that's what she believes, then I guess I don't have any reason to see her."

"No, but I've got a reason to shoot you, if you don't start riding out of town."

The older man shifted the shot gun in his hands to get a better grip and extended it toward the young rider. The meaning was clear.

Jed shook his head in dismay and stepped off the porch. He picked up his horse's reins and mounted quickly. The sooner he was out of sight the better.

Jed "Kid" Curry rode south, his left hand holding the reins and his right resting confidently on his revolver. He didn't look back as his mount galloped toward the open road.

0000000

_**Present Day**_

"Karl, you knew Eliza wanted to see him," Mrs. Peterson scolded.

"I knew it, but I thought he'd only bring her trouble."

"So you lied to me," Curry stated, matter-of-factly, with no animosity in his tone.

"I did and I'd do it again," Peterson said, defensively.

"You were protecting you daughter. I can understand that. I'd have done the same thing." In fact, he'd done very nearly the same thing the year before when Jeremiah Wilde had come to town, the cattle-rustling smooth-talker who had driven a wedge between him and his daughter.

As if reading his mind, Catherine spoke up. "But you were right about Jeremiah, Pa, and Grandfather was wrong about you."

"No, honey, he wasn't wrong. I turned out to be all the things he said I was."

Catherine shook her head in dismay. "That's not who you are now," she said finally, fighting back tears.

"No. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

The group rode in silence the rest of the way to the ranch.


End file.
